My mouth went dry.
He was all muscle. Hard ropes of it. I moved closer, my gaze running over him, and I saw several scars on his back—a few round and puckered, some long, jagged slashes. My stomach clenched.
I hadn’t made a sound, but his head whipped around.
My gaze greedily roamed his chest. There were hard pecs, more scars, that wolf tattoo, and a six-pack.
“Morning,” he said.
I jerked my gaze up, fighting the blush in my cheeks at being caught ogling him, and trying to control the tingle between my legs. “Good morning.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine.” I tucked my hair back behind my ear.
“How’s your face?”
“Fine. No bruising.”
He grunted. “I’m making breakfast.” He sounded grumpy around it.
“It smells great.”
He jerked his chin. “It’s nice outside. Thought we’d eat on the back deck.” He eyed my bare legs. “Grab the blanket though, so you don’t get cold.”
A few minutes later, I found myself snuggled under the blanket at Cole’s table on his patio. We had a lovely view of the trees and golf course. Unfortunately, he’d put a shirt on, but it was a black compression shirt that outlined his large biceps and chest, and I could see the ridges of his abdomen through it.
I bit into some bacon, watching as Cole poured me a coffee.
“You didn’t have to cook me breakfast.”
“Wanted to.”
“I’m sorry I disturbed you last night.”
“You don’t ever have to apologize for nightmares, Lili.”
I sipped my coffee. “I bet you don’t have nightmares.”
He looked right at me. “You’d be wrong.”
I fought back a shiver. “You’re just doing so much for me?—”
“Not going to stop.” He set his own coffee mug down, his face turning hard. My stomach turned over. Whatever he had to tell me, I knew I wouldn’t like it. “Lili, Nash got word that Kamensky is looking for you. So is Goodyear.”
Fear slithered through me. My cheeks tingled, and I knew the color was draining out of my face.
Cole reached out and grabbed my hand. “They aren’t getting anywhere near you. They’ll have to go through me first.”
My fingers convulsed on his. “I don’t want you to get hurt, Cole.”
“I’m tough to hurt.”
Bronco had probably thought that, too. “I don’t think Chadwick Goodyear follows the rules.”
“He doesn’t, but I don’t, either.”
There was a thread of something in his voice. “You really don’t like Goodyear.”
